


How the Cookie Crumbles

by Marijke_Rose



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Day 5, Enby chara, Failed escape, Where Do You Think You're Going, Whumptober 2020, no. 5, non-binary, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marijke_Rose/pseuds/Marijke_Rose
Summary: So, day 5 of Whumptober is: "Where do you think you're going?"/failed escapeI know a lot of people don't like OC's and I hadn't actually planned on doing a prompt with only OC's, but... that's what happened. Hope you'll give it a try anyway.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948705
Kudos: 6
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	How the Cookie Crumbles

They ran as fast as their short, little legs could carry them. And jumped and climbed over mountainous obstacles. They would get away! All the while clutching their precious burden to their chest.

It was yet another bold and valiant escape attempt, one they had made time and time again. Yet they’ve always been caught. Every single time! But this time would be different, because this time they had watched carefully. Observed. Patiently learned the enemy’s habits and movements. They knew exactly when snack time came. They knew when the big one left and the other came and when they switched off again.

This time, they had made sure they knew exactly where all of the hiding places between their cell and destination were, and how long it took to get to each one. They knew exactly how to navigate the obstacle course. Which ones they could jump over and which ones they had to climb with their PAK legs.

Speaking of PAK legs, it was a real shame their lasers were locked, for those would've been very handy to use and would ensure their success. They-

_ “Oof!”  _

They fell and rolled, and clamped their hands over their mouth, curling up into a ball to make themselves smaller and better hidden. They hoped their captors hadn't heard it. They waited as the excruciating seconds ticked by, but no sounds came.

“Phew!” they breathed and checked their treasure. It was miraculously still whole and undamaged. That was very lucky. If they lost  _ it, _ then the whole thing would be worthless. It was the key to everything. It would feed those who were starving, forced to go without all this time. Yes, it was of utmost importance!

They uncurled, sat up, and peaked out from behind the safety of the couch - a comfy, soft one made by people called the Four-Tens. The Four-Tens, they knew, made the best couches in the universe. Their parents had told them that many, many, many cycles ago. This couch was a very old couch though.

But it was time to hurry up, for they still had a long way to go and there were still so many dangers until they got to safety. The worst part was still before them: An open stretch that they could not skirt around nor dig under. They would have to make a mad dash to the other side where the large gate awaited them. At least the gate would open for them, they knew that from experience and no matter how many times they tried it, their captors never seemed to think of locking it.

They crept around the corner of the building, the paint at the edge slightly scratched, so no matter how dark it was - and it was currently very dark - they could always tell which way they had to go. Their captors believed they were sleeping. They touched it and, sure enough, it pointed forward. They smiled at the familiar feeling. Then they took a deep breath and looked out over the clearing. 

They gulped, then looked back in the direction of the quarters they knew their captors were occupying. The sounds of some TV show could be heard along with both their captor’s voices. One in particular, the stricter, meaner one, was complaining about how that wasn't how ‘organ-sweeping can-ons’ worked (Irken was a HARD language and that was the biggest word they had learned yet in their uncountable days as an Irken prisoner). The other’s misleadingly soft laughter rang out into the bitter, unforgiving darkness of the night.

That was good; it meant the two were busy. They looked back to the clearing. They counted the distance in their mind and only wished they could run faster. If their startlingly fast captors saw them now, they would never make it. They took a deep breath and prepared. Their treasure held safely and securely, they sprung forward and bolted towards the gate!

They ran and ran, pounding the ground with their bare feet. Sweat began to bead upon their forehead and they had to gasp for each breath. They ran and ran until their sides hurt and then they could see the gate. They were there! They ran faster. Their breath so loud in their ears, they couldn't even hear their captors. They were probably too far away anyway.

There was the gate, coming closer and closer, they could almost taste sweet, sweet freedom! 

And then…

Once they got there…

Would the gate open and admit them freedom?

Or had their captors finally caught on to the crack in their security?

The moment of truth…

And… 

It opened!!!

The sight gave them a needed boost of energy and they sped up, then dove through! Right on through! They rolled for what had to have been another five metres or so before they stopped. Then, dazed, they stood up on wobbly legs that felt like they were about to buckle right under them at any moment. Once steady, but still panting, they inspected their treat. It had some minor damage at the edges, but the important parts were still whole. 

“Phew!” they exhaled. Success!

And that was when the lights came on, flooding the entire area both inside and outside the gate and revealing them.

“Where do you think you're going?” the voice of the male captor demanded.

Oh, no! They had been caught  _ again _ ! They looked out along the narrow way that would have led them off to freedom if only they could have outrun their captors.

“Hey, I’m speaking to you,” their captor said again, his tone warning.

They gulped. They had no choice but to turn around and give themselves up. They couldn't even hide their treasure either.

“Turn around and show me what you've got.”

They gulped. They knew what that meant, even if they didn't speak Irken very well yet. - But maaaaybe they could still  _ try _ and make a run for it? They were so small, maybe their giant captor wouldn't notice. They looked at their destination, then took a tiny baby step.

“Eclipse!” their captor barked.

They took a deep breath, then turned around and reluctantly held out their treasure.

The big Irken took it and inspected it. “Just as I thought,” he said in that dire voice of his. “Now, what have I told you about cookies after bedtime?” he demanded.

Eclipse just grunted, unable to say anything. He felt so horrible and he was in big trouble now.

“Eclipse? Answer me.”

They looked up with big, tear-filled eyes. One ruby just like their Mami’s and the other purple just like their Granddami’s. The big one glared right back down.

Eclipse sniffed. “Not to…” they finally answered.

“Exactly,” the big one said as he bent down and picked them up. “And no cookies tomorrow either.”

Now at eye-level, he could see the big Irken’s eyes, narrowed to searing-red slits, well. “No ‘morroh?”

“Nope.”

“Dadi? Why no ‘morroh?”

“Because you deliberately disobeyed me.” As he said that, he brushed the crumbs from Eclipses tiny claws. Then he uttered the most horrible and mean punishment ever: “Now, we're going to wash your claws and put you back to bed.”

“Nooooooooo!” Eclipse cried. They  _ hated _ washing their claws and they hated bed even more and having to do both was just the worst most-hated and meany-est thing their Dadi could do! They made their feelings known by starting to cry.

When sniffles and little grunts didn't work and they entered the cleansing chamber anyway, they turned it up to sobs.

When that didn't work and their Dadi turned on the liquid cleanzor, they cranked it up full-fledged kicking and screaming and flailing. But Dadi just washed their claws anyway and by the time the faucet was turned off, they were hiccupping too (which really took all the power out of screaming).

Then their Dadi brought them to the bedchambers and sat down in a chair that swayed gently back and forth while Dadi hummed Eclipse’s favourite tune.

As Eclipse laid their head against Dadi’s chest and they could hear the soothing  _ thump-thump _ of his heartbeat and now their claws were dry again, they decided maybe their Dadi wasn't so mean after all. Even if they couldn't have cookies tomorrow.

Besides, their Dadi was the most important Irken in the universe because he was the tallest. Everyone even called him ‘Tallest Ember’. And shortly the exhausted smeet fell asleep, safe and warm in their Almighty Tallest Dadi’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Didja see that coming? ;-)
> 
> Eclipse is Ember's smeet. Tallest Ember is one of Red and Purple's smeets in some of my stories (though I haven't gotten to that point in them).
> 
> Eclipse was born "male", but does not identify with either genders. At this age, Ember and his mate aren't aware of that, so still refer to them with masculine pronouns. Eclipse, however, doesn't. Even at that age, they don't "feel" male or female.


End file.
